


six ways from sunday

by kinaesthetique



Series: her demons, their witch [2]
Category: Overwatch (Video Game)
Genre: AU- demons and magic, Alexithymic Angela "Mercy" Ziegler, Ana pops into a dream for 30 seconds, Autistic Satya "Symmetra" Vaswani, Bratty Sub/Switch Angela "Mercy" Ziegler, Demisexual Satya "Symmetra" Vaswani, Demon Angela "Mercy" Ziegler, Dominant Satya "Symmetra" Vaswani, Dragon Satya "Symmetra" Vaswani, F/F, Fuck Me Until I Can't Think, Light Bondage, Light Dom/sub, Light Praise Kink, Light breath play, Other, Strap-Ons, Submissive Fareeha "Pharah" Amari, Witch Fareeha "Pharah" Amari, smut chapters tagged individually
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-07-03
Updated: 2020-10-31
Packaged: 2021-03-04 05:54:31
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 6,848
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24728545
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kinaesthetique/pseuds/kinaesthetique
Summary: Their mutual attraction hangs in the air of Fareeha's apartment like a thick fog. Snowed in without much else to do, this fog swells and billows.Satya is patient. Angela is relentless.Fareeha doesn't want to talk about it.Yet.
Relationships: Fareeha "Pharah" Amari/Angela "Mercy" Ziegler, Fareeha "Pharah" Amari/Satya "Symmetra" Vaswani, Fareeha "Pharah" Amari/Satya "Symmetra" Vaswani/Angela "Mercy" Ziegler, Satya "Symmetra" Vaswani/Angela "Mercy" Ziegler
Series: her demons, their witch [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1407601
Comments: 24
Kudos: 54





	1. Monday

**Author's Note:**

> This takes place directly after LAST (and therefore you've got to read that first before anything else). It was going to be the sixth chapter, hence the number related title, but it would have changed the rating and screwed the tags over. I would describe this as 85% feelings and 15% shameless smut.
> 
> It was originally going to be one long chapter but then I realized with the constant POV changes, it would be better as multi-chapter. I'll tag smut chapters in the A/N as I come to them; not all tagged elements are present in all sections.
> 
> As with the original fic, this is another birthday present to myself, a year later. The time of year when I can be as self-indulgent as I want and refuse to feel bad about it. :)
> 
> Still though, it's pretty tame. Enjoy!

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> After using too much magic in one shot, Fareeha chalks up her vivid dreams to exhaustion.

_The café bustles noisily, full of faceless patrons sipping lattes. This odd version of the Brewhaha seems to be conjured in summer, because the patio is also full of customers in sun hats and light scarves._

_At her corner table, Fareeha scribbles in her notebook. Every word she writes comes out illegible. Incomprehensible, scrawling sigils surround her sketches. At first it bothers her that she can't read it, then it cheers her._

Oh. I'm dreaming, _she thinks._

_The seat across from her is empty except for her backpack. Fareeha reaches over, pulls it across the table to her, and busies herself with hanging it on the back of her own chair. When she looks up again, a familiar face smiles back at her._

_“Be careful leaving open seats,_ habibti. _You never know who might decide to join you.”_

_“It’s always you, Mom.” Fareeha reaches over and squeezes her hand. Ana returns the gesture. “Besides, there’s not too many people who would want to visit me, you know.”_

_“I just like to check on my daughter every once in a while. And have some more of this cafe’s ridiculous drinks.” She lifts the brown-and-white-swirled frappuccino up for Fareeha to see. “This is a caramel salted sidewalk. It’s_ summer! _”_

_“Oh, of course, that’s what Satya got yesterday. Plus it’s not actually summer, you know?”_

_“Maybe not where_ you _are.”_

_“We’re in the same place, mom. You’re just in my head.” Fareeha closes her sketchbook, effectively hiding the scribbles and sigils. She tries not to think too hard about the fact her mother is much more than across the world._

_“Mmm, and who is this Satya? Have you finally got a girlfriend?”_

_“She’s Angela’s girlfriend. Maybe her wife? Haven’t actually asked.”_

_Ana takes a very, very long sip of her drink before leaning forward and whispering, “Dodging the question, are we? Tell me, Fareeha, are you dating them or not?”_

* * *

Fareeha opens her eyes, suddenly wide awake. Just like every visit from her mother, her dream remains crystal clear in her mind's eye, complete with her teasing expression. It's at times like these that she’s glad there's no one in her life who expects frequent life updates.

 _How do you explain "so_ _apparently_ _I'm a witch and I summoned two possibly married demons who are maybe into me as much as I am into them"?_

 _“Fuck,”_ Fareeha says to the dark open space of her bedroom and to no one in particular.

“‘S too early for fuck; go back to sleep,” mumbles Angela, attempting to burrow between Fareeha’s shoulder blades. Her tail wraps around one of Fareeha’s legs, bunching up her pajama pants in the process. There's a deep rumble from Satya that is surely her expression of agreement with Angela's words.

Fareeha reaches over and taps her phone. Sure enough it’s just past three in the morning on the last Monday of the semester. Fareeha scoots backward a little bit to keep from falling off the bed and goes back to sleep.

The rest of Monday is fine. 

For breakfast, Fareeha just boils a couple of eggs and makes toast- to the horror of both Satya and Angela who, being newly allowed to eat human food, clearly have developed cravings.

Half a morning of sigil experimentation later, Fareeha succeeds in modifying some bamboo plates and utensils they can eat from and leaves them to their own devices.

Late Monday evening, Angela, Satya _and_ Raptora greet her at the door after classes and office hours and an extended errand period, demanding all manner of things from improved sigils and spatulas to campus maps and course syllabi. 

It's nice because, despite all the hubbub, they made her dinner— a recipe from a cookbook she forgot she had, using ingredients that Fareeha swore she didn't have: turkey stroganoff with brussel sprouts.

Over dinner, Angela mostly wants to know how the feedback went, as always seeking her approval and praise, even going so far to converse entirely in Arabic with her while on that topic of conversation.

Satya, on the other hand, presents her with a list of inconsistencies she found within her personal magic texts- all three of them, including _Rituals and Victuals_ , which had been freshly retrieved from the umbrella stand.

Fareeha stays up far too late talking to them, learning and practicing small spells and generally enjoying a break from needing to grade papers. Despite falling asleep on the couch, she wakes up in her own bed on Tuesday morning, with Angela clinging to Satya next to her.

And Tuesday?

Tuesday is the start of something different.


	2. Tuesday Morning

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Angela works through some intense feelings, but when that gets to be too much, Satya has other ways of helping.
> 
> If you can call it that.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter notes: foreplay, no ~smut~, just set up, dynamics, and light bondage

Despite not _technically_ needing sleep, Angela does have to admit that it still has some restorative properties. On Tuesday morning, Angela doesn’t even wake up until Fareeha rolls out of bed, grumbling about missing her alarms. As Fareeha putters around the bedroom getting ready for the day, Angela just watches her sleepily.

_She's so… alive…_

Fareeha notices Angela's gaze on her and raises an eyebrow. "What did I do?"

"You woke me up," Angela growls half-heartedly. It doesn't take telepathy to know Fareeha isn't convinced by her faked aggression. 

_You’re too good for me and yet I can’t help but feel..._

Angela harrumphs and rolls over before her complexion can give her thoughts away. Satya giggles and allows her to snuggle into her embrace, no doubt picking up on her feelings, even in her sleep.

"Sorry, go back to sleep then," Fareeha says softly, then adds, "I'll be back after office hours. Don't burn anything down."

“Right. Wouldn’t dream of it,” Angela mutters, refusing to look over her shoulder at her.

The door closes quietly behind her. Fifteen minutes later Angela can hear the front door close, too. Taking a deep breath for concentration, she can sense the witch's essence moving quickly toward central campus until it fades from the edges of her perception.

The lack of her witch brings a forlorn sense of longing, a lump in her throat that won’t subside, a feeling of loss that was not even that strong yesterday—

_My witch?_

The feeling flares softly behind her sternum, confusing her. She concentrates, trying to put a name to it. More than possessive, stronger than protective... definitely familiar…

"You're in love with her," Satya murmurs.

"Oh _fuck_ no," Angela groans. “Absolutely not. Not already. Not like _this. ”_

"I do wonder, with all those years before me, how you hadn't fallen for anyone else." Satya opens her eyes, her irises a warm, barely-human hazel. They sparkle with amusement. "So easily smitten. You amaze me."

"Shut up. You fell for her first." Angela squirms out of her arms and rolls out of bed. Standing up and stretching to the ceiling, she adjusts her pajama pants until her tail can stick out comfortably. Her racerback tank allows her wings out but does little to conserve heat. "I'm making coffee."

"And drinking it out of what?" 

She can hear Satya sit up as she grips the door handle. 

"I'll figure it out." Angela pulls the door open, only to be met with Raptora.

_My witch is not a forgetful one._

"No, but she _is_ busy," Angela responds aloud before pushing her way past the familiar. He meows and follows after her as she flies downstairs. Though she navigates the turns through the living room perfectly, she nearly crashes into the kitchen counter at the sight there.

Raptora yowls loudly as Angela hovers above the kitchen tile, staring at the gifts on the counter. She looks down into his bright green eyes just for a moment-

_You act as if you know her better than I_ -

"Shut up, cat. It's my job to know better." Slowly sinking to the floor, Angela tiptoes closer and takes one of the mugs off the counter to check the bottom. Sure enough, just like on their plates and utensils, their sigil is painted precisely.

She sniffs it and rears back in disgust. "Nail polish? Really, Fareeha?"

Angela glances back at the counter at the tiny bottle of polish, the other mug, and the note that her own was previously covering.

In hasty but recognizable handwriting, it reads: _I'll make something better once break starts_.

Angela whirls at a noise behind her, but it's only Satya, shuffling in on bare feet.

"What did she do now?" Satya speaks through a yawn. It's such a careless, human act and Angela has to withhold a snarl. Satya tosses her braid over one shoulder and smoothes out her pajamas- a long-sleeved dragon-print set that needs no adjustments for demonic reminders, because she doesn't _have_ any.

_Lucky her._

Angela gestures to the nail polish bottle on the counter and the other mug. "Won't be lapping coffee off a plate today."

_Raptora does_ not _need to know about that, anyway. He's cocky enough without being able to carry me around by the scruff._

"Ah, but you would look so cute," Satya steps close and strokes Angela's cheek, eliciting a nasty bubbling in her stomach rather than any feeling of pleasure. 

Satya notices, of course. "Have I done something to upset you?"

"No," Angela pulls away. "It's just early."

"I was not initiating anything right now." Satya raises an eyebrow. "But we _are_ alo-"

Raptora meows loudly between them. They look down at the familiar, then back to each other.

"I just want my coffee while it's hot." Angela inches away, toward the half-empty french press that Fareeha left.

Satya picks up her own mug, following her. "Are you cold already? You were next to me all night-"

"Drop it, Sym," Angela growls, but her heart falls as Satya's expression goes very carefully blank. It's even more apparent on her human face, without scales in the way.

_Shit._

"Sorry. I didn't mean… I shouldn't be snappy at you. It's not your fault I can't adjust." Angela turns away and floats to the fridge, still gripping the mug in her hands.

_Get it together, genius._

"You think I've adjusted," Satya states flatly and behind her, Angela can hear her nails tapping on the mug. "Or that I've reclaimed my humanity?"

Unwilling to answer, she pulls the soy milk out of the fridge and turns to find Satya pouring coffee into her own mug. She reaches over and fills Angela's as well.

"I am under no illusions about who I am, Mercy. I seek to blend as I always have." Satya sets the empty carafe on the counter and reaches out, placing a hesitant hand on Angela's sternum, just below the hem of her tank top. "One of us has to, no?"

_But not right now. Not here._

"It's only been a couple of days." When Angela still doesn't say anything, Satya begins to rub small, comforting circles and continues, "Be gentle with yourself."

Angela sputters into her coffee mug, nearly choking on the bitter liquid. She can tell that Satya's looking at her strangely as she bursts into laughter.

_I've never been gentle with myself._

Satya pulls her hand back. Angela just shakes her head, clearing her throat of the last few laughs.

_And it's pretty late to start._

"I bet I still remember how to poach eggs," Angela muses aloud as she puts the soy milk on the counter and retrieves Fareeha's carton of eggs from the fridge. She peers into its depths. "We should probably help with groceries somehow."

Satya is silent so long that Angela thinks she's left, fed up with Angela avoiding the issue, but when she turns, Satya is holding her mug up and breathing a small tongue of flame over her coffee.

Satya pretends not to notice her watching as she warms her drink, so Angela just turns back to the stove. Her tail swishes slowly as she processes the significance of such a gesture.

_Blending, but not adjusted?_

Aside from that Satya does, as earlier asked, drop the issue of Angela's frustration. They make breakfast quietly, digging through Fareeha's cabinets to use things she doesn't seem to remember she has, like canned beans and frozen spinach.

_Does she even cook? I swear she just shops and forgets to eat..._

Once the eggs are simmering, Angela wraps her tail around Satya's waist and pulls her tight, bringing her in for a soft, apologetic kiss. Eventually, their culinary endeavours result in a rather bastardized rice bowl. It's nothing award winning, but neither of them want to experiment, especially with no reliable way to replace the food.

After breakfast, they spend the morning in close proximity until Angela stretches out on the living room couch for a late morning nap in the sun; Satya heads upstairs, presumably to grab one of Fareeha's books to peruse.

It's not until she startles to wakefulness that Angela even realizes she'd fallen asleep. Satya's shadow blocks the sunlight; it's what wakes her.

"You seem bored." Satya twirls her human fingers on her prosthetic palm until she produces a familiar length of blue satin fabric. Angela suppresses a shiver at the sight of it. "We should test the endurance of our sheets."

"Is that a suggestion or a promise?"

"It was intended to be an order." Satya tilts her head. "Will you comply?"

"Not like that." Angela sits up and props herself on one elbow. "No offense but…"

_This isn't really you._

Satya reaches out and wraps her hand around her neck, gently pressing Angela back down on the couch. Her fingers flicker with warm, tickling flames that dance up her arm and spread across her body until she is once again Symmetra: perfect, dangerous, powerful.

"There you are," Angela smirks, also letting her human disguise dissolve completely. She doesn't flinch as Satya grips the leather of her top and hauls her into a sitting position. "Now what?"

"That," Satya purrs, "is none of your business. Only concern yourself with whether you are enjoying this or not. You remember what to say if not?"

_Practicality's sake._ Angela rolls her eyes.

Satya pulls her closer and commands, "Say. It."

"But I _am_ enjoying this," Angela allows herself a toothy grin as they stare each other down. "Why would I want you to stop?"

_Just make me stop thinking._

_Don't be difficult, Mercy._

"I live to be difficult, dearest," Angela snarls, gasping when Satya pins her to the couch again, prosthetic claws around her covered throat. "But since you asked _so_ _nicely,_ it's Macintosh."

"Excellent." Satya exhales a thin stream of frustrated smoke, nodding slightly. She takes the satin and loops it around Angela's neck, pulling it taut until she can barely breathe, let alone think. 

Satya pauses, staring at her as Angela's eyelids flutter.

_Sometimes—_

_—if I knew wha—_

_—controllably out of tou—_

_—not a soluti—_

"Sym," Angela rasps as she allows Satya to tug her upright and lead her up the stairs. "Stop thinking."

Satya looks over her shoulder, nostrils flaring. "Have I allowed you to make demands?"

"Uh, wel-" Angela's hesitation earns her a tug so hard that she chokes and giggles hysterically. "No, ma'am."

"You know better than that. If you want something, you need only beg."

There's no time to respond accordingly as the dragoness pulls her up the stairs and into their room, closing the door behind them.

_Ah, our little Hell away from Hell._

It's all due to Satya's brand of magic- which isn't magic at all, but it's close. For someone so bound to rule and order, Satya does love to toe the line.

Fortunately, it's all reversible; Fareeha’s deposit is important to her and they’d never jeopardize it. The two existing full beds were connected with soft covers. Blackout curtains, soft lamps, mirrors, two desks and a small bookshelf fill out the room but the star of the room truly is the bed. It's half covered in pillows; the black and white comforter is folded neatly and placed nearby. Their silken sheets are purple, a shade between eggplant and dried lavender.

Angela’s thoughts snap back to the situation at hand as Satya suddenly stops at the side of the bed. She turns, tugging roughly on the leash until Angela stumbles into the space between her girlfriend and the mattress. For a moment, Satya just watches as Angela catches her breath and regains her balance.

Then Satya undoes the leash slowly, allowing the anticipation to build as she trails her fingers across Angela’s chin and unloops the sash. Angela chews her lip, forcing herself to stay still until Satya is finished. Not even her tail twitches.

“You are _unusually_ good,” murmurs Satya as she pulls the fabric free. It shimmers in the lamplight.

“Are you complaining?” Angela grins toothily at her girlfriend. _Should you be?_

Rather than rise to the bait, Satya places a hand on Angela’s chest and shoves her onto the bed. Before Angela can even make herself comfortable, Satya begins to climb atop her. Her claws create sharp points of pain through Angela’s suit, contrasting with the soft sheets. They’re much softer than she remembered, pressing against her cheek.

_Maybe because we've been sleeping in Fareeha's bed— fuck, do not think about her._

"Symmetra…" Angela whines, wanting nothing more than to scour her brain of thoughts.

Now stradling Angela properly, the dragoness in question loops the light blue fabric around Angela's wrists, binding them together and ignoring Angela’s pleading.

"Sym, please, I can't-"

Satya cuts her off with a sharp pull, drawing a surprised gasp from Angela. Using the remaining length of fabric, Satya lifts Angela’s hands above her head. When she sits back, Angela takes a moment to tug at her bindings to confirm what she’d already suspected: her wrists have been secured to the wrought iron headboard.

Satya gets off the bed, pointedly ignoring Angela’s needy whining. She turns her back to Angela and begins to undress. For someone who wears very little in the way of clothing and armor, the process seems to take an eternity. From her boots and the greaves above them to the scale chest armor, Satya sets every piece on the nearby dresser, neatly arranging it to her tastes.

_Oh for the love of-_

Angela writhes against the sheets, not so much as fighting her bonds as trying to get Satya’s attention. As expected, Satya pays her no mind. Her headpiece hisses as she removes it last and sets it in the center of the rest of her armour. Still, she combs her claws through her dark hair, freeing it from its braid until it waterfalls over her bare shoulders.

Even when she finally turns back toward the bed, Satya does so just as slowly. As she turns, she unclasps her wings and folds them properly at her back. Her skin glows in the light of her golden tattoos, a rich orchid and plum that blends into the tangerine glow of her chest. It's all Angela can do to stay still as Satya finally climbs onto her, straddling her waist. Angela's suit is no match for the smoldering heat of the dragoness.

Angela gasps at the sudden heat, struggling helplessly under the weight of her girlfriend. Her positioning is perfect for kissing her way down or feeling her way up Angela's body. A slight shift would even allow her to grind on Angela's thigh, forcing her to watch without touching. The possibilities are endless. Angela swallows quietly, anxious to know what Satya has in store for her.

However, Satya leans forward and wraps her hands around Angela's horns. Angela stills at the firm grip as a shiver raises the hairs on the back of her neck, ears twitching uncontrollably. 

With slow deliberate strokes, Satya rubs the pads of her right fingers along the spiraling grooves of Angela's horn until she's no longer able to restrain a desperate moan. Aside from setting her nerves alight, fewer gestures make her feel so _wanted_ and _seen._ Blushing, Angela swallows additional noises, biting her lip as she glares up at Satya with a mix of frustration and lust.

_Why are you reminding me of what I am?_

_You are in need of a reminder._

Angela throws her head back with a snarl, or rather, she tries to; Satya's grip is unyielding.

_"_ Satya, _please fuck me already."_

"Not yet."

Using steady pressure, Satya guides Angela’s head back and to the side, exposing her neck to Satya. Beneath her collar, she can feel her pulse racing as the dragoness handles her effortlessly.

_Fuck—_

Angela takes a shaky, shallow breath as Satya presses her warm, naked body flush against hers. Satya buries her face behind her ear, sharp teeth grazing Angela's sensitive skin as she tugs her collar down. If she wants Angela naked, she'll have to tear the leather off. Angela shivers and whimpers at the thought, squirming as Satya nips at her ear, then kisses her way down.

"Convince me," Satya orders.

Angela does not have to be told twice.


	3. Tuesday Midday

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Satya would never use any of her supernatural powers on Angela.  
> Fortunately, she doesn't need them to make her girlfriend feel exactly the way she wants.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Tags: sex, praise kink, exhibitionism of the audible variety  
> \---  
> Apologies for the wait. I got three different green lights on this chapter about two months ago, but the one thing holding me back was my embarrassment. Hahaha... haaaaaa... /)/////////////////(\ That's not gonna go away any time soon.  
> I hope you enjoy!

Satya has her preferences, but none of them hold a candle to the sight of Angela nearly coming undone at her touch.

With her orchid chiropteran wings splayed out beneath her and her marble skin flushed with lavender, Angela pants and keens, sinking her fangs into her already beautifully bruised lips. In the perfectly subtle lighting of the corner lamp, curtained windows, and Satya's natural glow, Angela could be a Second Renaissance painting: skin sparkling with sweat, ink black hair laid out in a messy halo, pupils blown wide with a desperate, wordless plea, wine-colored bruises just beginning to blossom on her thighs, waist, and breasts.

Satya would stare at her all day if she could.

Satya leans forward and kisses from her neck back down to where she pumps her slick fingers in and out of Angela's folds. With three fingers inside and an attentive thumb on her clit, it's no wonder that Angela's close to climax, especially with how long Satya's been teasing her, keeping her on the edge and under control.

Satya lets Angela's lust and desperation flood her senses, allows her raw feelings to feed her enthusiasm and the older demoness writhes beneath her in increasingly frenzied bliss.

Once, in a post-coitus daze, Angela had explained that such a cycle was a positive feedback loop, a term describing two processes that feed into each other until one overloads. Judging by her pitiful pleading, Angela is about to break the cycle.

Then, something in the apartment shifts.

Satya slows her pace, then stops, sitting back on her haunches and looking over to the door. Angela cranes her neck, whining in confusion as Satya removes her fingers.

"Did you feel that?"

"You stopping? Obviously." Angela trembles, miserable and aching for a release that is now that much further away. Satya looks down at her girlfriend and chuckles low in her throat. The sound makes Angela squirm. Satya pushes at her knees, keeping her legs apart. She may have shifted her attention but she's not willing to let Angela get off on her own terms.

"The protection sigils hummed. It would seem Fareeha is home early." Satya grins wickedly. "Wouldn't it be _unfortunate_ if she heard how desperate you are? If she could hear in your voice how much you wish she was here with us?"

Angela's violet eyes widen and Satya waits for a moment, allowing her to consider the possibility that Satya already has: Fareeha hearing Angela finally come undone in her rhapsody of pleasure. 

While Angela is in no position to make threats, Satya _will_ allow her a choice: forfeit or lose.

They are both aware that, above her pride, Angela is addicted to a certain level of risk and danger, the likes of which were easily sated in Hades. Comparatively, Angela's desire for Fareeha's affection is also high; the question is: will her deep-set competitive risk-taking nature win over the fear of possibly losing Fareeha's approval?

Satya waits for her earnest protest, but Angela only swallows audibly, bracing herself.

_So stubborn._

They are also both aware that, besides the sensual and visual pleasures that Satya gets from sex, _hearing_ Angela is one of her other preferences. And lucky for her, Angela will beg and whine and scream happily for whatever Satya gives her. 

In total, Satya has months, if not _years,_ of practice in making Angela scream. 

_I will get what I want._

Hesitation spent, Satya slips a single finger back past glistening black curls and deep into Angela's aching heat. She gasps, bucking her hips in relief and surprise.

_I always do._

_"Satya…"_ Angela hisses, flushed a gorgeous lilac from her cheeks to her ears. "Please—!"

"Please don't let Fareeha hear you?" Satya slips in a second finger and curls them both until Angela throws her head back and whimpers. "Or please let you come? I do _not_ believe you can have both."

After all, Angela has no practice in staying quiet.

"Sym, _please,_ I can be quiet- _nnngh!"_ Angela bites her lip as Satya repositions herself on the bed so she can wrap her tongue around her clit. If it weren't for the silken bonds tying her hands to the headboard above her, Satya has no doubt that Angela's adorable claws would either be buried in Satya's hair, ripping their bed sheets or, taking the more practical option, clamped over her own mouth.

Only her sheer will and her teeth stand in the way of embarrassment.

"Can you?" Satya increases her pace and hums, letting up on her clit for a moment so Angela can hear her teasing. The bundle of nerves throbs a gorgeous deep red-violet, impossible to miss even if one tried. "You've _never_ been quiet. You don't know how."

 _"Nnno,_ I can be, _Satya please—"_ Angela yelps, wrapping her legs around Satya as she continues to attend to her clit in earnest. Her voice trembles and shakes as she whispers, "I promise!"

"So much talking for someone promising silence…" Satya tuts and quickens her pace.

Angela throws her head back in frustration and strains against Satya's iron grip on her hips, but otherwise stays quiet.

"Good girl, Angela," Satya purrs. Angela whimpers softly at the praise. "I wonder how long you can last…"

_Not as long as she thinks._

Once Satya can feel Angela clenching around her fingers again, she withdraws, stroking Angela's hypersensitive folds gently; that elicits a broken sob. After a moment, Satya plunges her tongue into her depths. Angela arches her back off the bed with a barely muffled scream, wings fluttering in ecstasy. Satya flares her nostrils at the scent of copper and a quick glance up confirms that Angela has pierced the tender skin of her lips. 

_All to keep Fareeha from hearing her._

With her damp hand helping to keep Angela's thighs spread, Satya reaches up and begins to just _barely_ trail the claws of her prosthetic across the thin, sensitive velveteen of Angela's flapping wing, pinning it to the bed as she does so. 

_As if I would make it that easy._

With the addition of the feather-light massage, the demoness clenches her eyes shut, beginning to tremble in earnest. Her pale skin burns with desire. Angela breathes in pathetic little gasps, desperate for air she doesn't need. Her tail whips back and forth in the space between her spread legs in time with her quickened pulse.

 _So close._

Satya chuckles, breathes through her nose, and continues to eat her lover out with passion. She opens her mouth wider, brushing her lip against Angela's clit with purpose, and continues to use her tongue to give Angela every second of what she craves. It is no simple task to please Angela, but Satya has _never_ preferred simple.

Ultimately, Angela climaxes with a muffled moan— that is until Satya sneaks her other hand down to stroke the vulnerable micro-scales of the underside of her tail, sending her over the edge. Her drawn-out moan morphs into a shriek of shock and delight as she comes messily into Satya's mouth, flooding her taste buds with the sweetest nectar. It's only a split second before Angela clamps her mouth shut again, but a split second is all Satya needs.

_Exquisite._

As Angela slowly comes down from the clouds of ecstasy, Satya gently laps at her slit throughout the aftershocks until she unwraps her legs from Satya's shoulders.

"I think…" Angela pants, leveling an ineffective glare at Satya as she struggles to sit up. "I think I hate you…"

"You do not."

"I do a little bit," Angela grumbles. Satya reaches over Angela's flushed body to untie her. "That was unfair."

"All's fair in love and war, darling." Dissipating the sash in a flurry of crystals, Satya kisses her lips, savoring the mix of tastes there. Angela kisses back hungrily, nipping with her fangs. "Plus you know how to stop me."

"I do," Angela sighs, avoiding her gaze. _"Fuck._ I didn't think I'd give in so easily."

"You know she's too polite to mention it."

Angela covers her face and groans.

_So cute._

"She never has to know that we knew she was home early and no matter when we go downstairs, she'll likely say she got home a few minutes prior." Satya kisses her cheek and strokes her tenderly. "I would never embarrass you if you didn't have an out."

 _"Ugh,_ I know."

"She has a strong sense of morality," Satya says softly. "It's not that she doesn't want to court us; she's uncertain because of the circumstances."

"Or because she's actually not into us like that," Angela counters, peeking between her fingers.

"You _still_ haven't checked?" When Angela doesn't reply, Satya sighs. "Of course you haven't. Because you don't want to be wrong."

"Shut up." Blushing, Angela reaches out and slides her hands up Satya's soft, plum thighs, trailing her cool hands up her golden markings to the curve of her backside. Satya lets out a surprised giggle when she presses gently on either side of the small of her back, where her wings are attached. Angela pets there until Satya begins to hum quietly in approval, eyes slipped shut in bliss.

"You are _certainly_ eager."

Of course, discipline and control are not an issue with Satya. Staying quiet will be no challenge for her and they both know it.

"Why don't you _properly_ shut me up?" Angela smirks, though the expression doesn't quite reach her eyes, and guides Satya toward her until she's positioned above her face. Already, Satya's loins are alight with more than the dragon's fire within her. She sighs in delight as Angela pulls her hips down and begins her ministrations.

Angela's anxiety trickles through every point of contact, along with frustration, confusion, and vehement denial. Satya shuts it out, because she's learned to, and puts those feelings at the back of her mind.

_We will talk about it later, I suppose._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Before you get your hopes up or down, most of the fic isn't actually smut, sorry!
> 
> (One day, I will draw that second paragraph or ask someone else to draw it for me. I don't think I've ever written a description so... *sighs dreamily*)  
> /)///////////////////////(\


	4. Tuesday Afternoon

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Fareeha comes home to a quiet, empty apartment.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is such a short section, I didn't think it was worth a week wait. :D Enjoy!

Fareeha has no business shadow walking considering what had happened only two days ago, but with the bizzarely sudden blizzard barreling down from the Arctic, bringing imminent ice and snow, she opts to take the shortcut home while the sun's still out.

After the university cancelled all classes after one, office hours were moot, but thankfully only one of her sections actually missed class time. She emailed them the answer key to Monday's review packet instead and spent a quiet hour working on a back up plan for Wednesday as well as Thursday's conversational exams.

Then, she found the closest sycamore to the Middle Eastern and North African Studies building, focused very carefully on _exactly_ how much magic she needed, and took herself home.

It does occur to her, as she steps out of the dark in-between, that perhaps the comparatively mild headache could simply be because she was transporting only herself and not three people.

Only Raptora greets her today, and even then only with a sleepy mew from the couch. She locks the door behind her, tosses her coat onto the coat hooks and flops on the couch to cuddle him.

The Russian Blue protests with a few grumpy mews, but allows Fareeha to pick him up and give him a few moments of chin scratches and goofy affection.

"You may be my familiar, but you're still my kitty!! Yes!! Yes, you are," she coos as he squirms, purring regardless. "Nothing will ever change that!"

When he finally wriggles out of her grip, Fareeha stretches out on the couch and listens to the silence of the apartment.

"Did they go out?" 

Sat on the carpet _just_ out of reach, Raptora pauses from licking his coat, stares at her for a moment, and resumes bathing.

"I guess that's a yes." Fareeha runs down a brief list of possibilities. 

They might have gone window shopping in town out of curiosity, regardless of their lack of funds. Perhaps stopped in at the library to read or sat in on undergrad lectures. It's not hard to imagine Satya finding the architecture library or Angela moseying about the medical school's student clinic. If they were wandering around campus, they'd be back soon. Even without phone or email, the mass exodus of students, professors, and staff from campus would be telling enough.

Faced with an afternoon with no obligations, Fareeha reaches for her discarded satchel and retrieves one of her practical magic books, recently delivered to the grad office. By all technicalities, the interlibrary loaner was a research book for her thesis, but if it had anything relevant to her own magic, that was _purely_ coincidental.

She's halfway through a chapter about garden witches when she hears the scream.

Two things she notices immediately. One, it's unmistakably Angela, judging by the pitch. Two, it's short and strangled, as if cut off suddenly. Worried, Fareeha is halfway off the couch when her brain replays the sound for the fourth time, trying to place it.

A scream, not of pain or fear, but of surprise and pleasure.

_Oh._

She freezes in place, face warming in realization.

_Forgot that part about roommates._

Fareeha sinks back onto the couch. Raptora stares at her, tail swishing across the carpet. He stands and slinks into the kitchen, tail jerking from side to side with irritation.

 _He can probably hear_ everything _. I guess they didn't expect me home for a bit._

Fareeha creeps over to the thermostat and turns it up until the heat noisily comes on, pulls the couch throw over her legs, and then digs her headphones out of her satchel for good measure.

_Just gonna… pretend I didn't hear that._


	5. Tuesday Twilight

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Angela reflects on her relationship with her girlfriend.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Happy Halloween! I figured since this was already written, I'd post it.
> 
> Not really sure if this qualifies as aftercare in the traditional sense but I think it does.

As always, Angela appreciates Satya's attention to detail. Her creative additions to their bedroom include a small bathtub. They do have to be human-shaped to both fit, but that is the point of being on Earth with Fareeha after all, isn't it?

_Human-shaped… right… just a shape..._

Satya runs the tap, an extension from the townhouse's bathroom next door, to fill the tub. Angela stands in front of the mirror and examines Satya's handiwork.

 _Bitemarks and bruises…_ Angela muses, trailing her fingers over the lurid marks. _Still can't decide who's_ __w_ eirder? Me for wanting them or her for making them? _

"Won't you come out of your thoughts and slip into something more comfortable, Angela?" Satya slides into the mirror's view, burying her head in her pale neck. Despite her preference for the dragoness, her human form is just as lovely; Angela's breath catches in her throat at the sight.

_Still not used to her like that._

At the thought of her own human form, Angela shuffles her feet and sighs. _Comfortable_ is an overstatement. She allows herself to shift into a memory, a lie, a fond illusion. She refuses to look, closing her eyes as she disappears into someone she's not. The urge to hold onto _something_ familiar is overwhelming. She settles on her fangs. Those are subtle enough.

"You are _always_ you," Satya murmurs, nudging her toward the steaming tub.

She just hums, never convinced, no matter how many times Satya's said so, or thought it in her direction as it were, since they decided to stay.

_Was that really only a few days ago?_

Angela takes one last look at her bruised but apparently human body and allows herself to be led to the warm water. They stand a moment in front of the modernist style tub.

"And you're sure it'll fit us both?"

"If your definition of 'fitting' requires us to not touch," Satya glances at her, then back to the tub. "Then perhaps we should take separate baths."

"As long as it's okay with you," Angela murmurs, suddenly shy. If Satya didn't mind how noisy her emotions were an hour ago, surely she wouldn't mind now, but the worry still stands.

"I would have told you if it were not." Satya raises an eyebrow. "How many times must I explain that my intentions are rarely hidden?"

Angela approaches the tub of her own volition, flushing, but not as vibrant as her demonic form would be. "At least once more."

Once they've settled in opposite of each other, legs tangled beneath the bubbles, Angela sinks into the water, keeping her eyes on Satya as she does. Even with her eyes closed, Satya doesn't seem satisfied. Angela tries her best to radiate a feeling of discontent.

_Come on, Sym… it's cold..._

Satya slides her leg thoughtfully along hers. "Would you mind if I increased the temperature?"

In an attempt to be sexy, Angela arches an eyebrow and rises above the water line, but sputters and chokes on the bubbles in her hurry to answer. _"Ack,_ I thought you'd never ask _."_

Satya laughs outright and Angela blushes, sinking below the water again. Embarrassment aside, she can't help but bubble happily when Satya begins to heat the water to properly hellish temperatures.

The heat soothes her bruises. They'll heal eventually; these would last a few days, maybe more. They were a reminder: proof of her existence, and her relevance, to another being.

_Stop thinking, Angela._

She ducks under the water and worms her way into Satya's arms, seeking her warmth directly. Her girlfriend pulls her to her chest and holds her there.

Angela kisses her lips, taking in Satya's own bruises, however few. Satya sighs in surprise as bruises on her soft thighs and lips fade. Angela suppresses a wince as they reform on her own body, adding to her collection.

"Did I not mark you well enough already?" Satya trails her fingers over Angela's thighs and stomach, tracing the lovebites there. She drops her voice an octave and adds dryly, "Or did it not occur to you that _I_ wanted those?"

Angela whines, wanting nothing more than to shift back into her skin. Instead, she burrows her face into the crook of Satya's neck and shakes her head. Satya rumbles.

“I may be the dragon, but you are the greedy one…”

"Well, next time, say no take backs."

There’s no heat behind her words. She knows Satya can feel what she means by the gesture. For putting up with her, it's the least she can do.

Symmetra is the perfect one, after all. It's Mercy's job to help maintain that illusion.

It's never until she's in Satya's arms and reminded that she is loved and cherished by her, that it hits her that she is extremely lucky to have met Satya, despite when and where she did.

_Why is this part always so hard?_

No matter what else, they had each other.

In this moment, Angela realizes that, at any other time, their _services_ might be needed in another realm or continent.

"We're... contracted," Angela murmurs.

"We' _re invoked._ We're awaiting incantation and contract. Therefore, we have no obligation to go anywhere else," Satya amends, as always one step ahead of her thoughts through feelings alone.

_Does Fareeha truly understand what she's done for us?_

“We don’t deserve her.”

“We didn’t deserve this either,” Satya replies, reaching up to stroke Angela’s fangs. It's an unneeded gesture; what else could she be referring to? “And yet…”

“I know a few demons who’d disagree with that," Angela grumbles.

Satya is silent but she doesn't need to say anything. Angela knows they're both thinking about the same thing.

“I didn’t do anything to deserve you,” Satya responds eventually, with an arched eyebrow. "And that has _always_ been the truth."

“Yeah, you just got stuck with me." Angela sticks her tongue out and repositions herself to give Satya a sloppy kiss on the mouth. "For better or worse."

Satya makes a face, but plays along. "Since death. And beyond."

"'til Oblivion."

"So forever," Satya holds Angela tight and kisses her back properly. "Which _means_ we should make sure we spend our limited time with Fareeha well… and not wallow in baths when we could be downstairs. But first..."

"Huh-?" But that's all Angela can say before Satya pulls a sponge out of the water and shoves it in her face. She sputters, unable to stop herself from laughing. Her last knots of anxiety dissolve like bath foam.

"Wash up."

Angela snorts. "You know we could just-"

"Like a human."

"Fine, _fine."_

"And yes, Angela," Satya sinks deeper into the water, carrying Angela with her. "I love you, too."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> No promises on any future update timeline. Life's kinda *makes vague sounding noises* at the moment. Every time I think it'll clear, it gets more complicated.


End file.
